Kojiro had lost track of how long he’d been sitting in the same spot.
The armchair in the corner of Kaoru’s hospital room was too small to slump into comfortably, so Kojiro had given up on the idea of taking a nap. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep now, anyway. Every time he closed his eyes, the events of the past few hours flashed by in his mind.
Entering the emergency room had been a blur -- running in with Kaoru in his arms had brought the attention on him right away, and within seconds he was swarmed by nurses and staff. Countless questions about what happened rained down on him, and he found himself unable to open his mouth to answer them. Relief washed over Kojiro when Shadow started filling in the gaps for him, and then a nurse tugged on his sleeve, pointing him to an empty bed and instructing him to put Kaoru down carefully.
Kojiro could only do as he was told, and he could’ve sworn Kaoru’s grip on his jacket lingered for a touch too long before he let go. Their gazes met, and Kojiro would’ve done anything to get rid of the fear in his eyes, if the hospital staff hadn’t cut in and busied themselves with Kaoru’s injuries.
Before Kojiro knew it, Kaoru’s bed was being wheeled away. A black hole swallowed everything within the cage of his ribs as he watched Kaoru disappear behind a set of heavy white doors.
One way or another he’d found his way into a waiting room. Someone pushed a small cardboard cup of cheap coffee into his hands. He vaguely remembered staring at the wall until its subtle pattern began to swirl along with his stomach.
Eventually a nurse notified him that Kaoru was confirmed to be stable, no severe or life-altering damage done, and that they’d moved him to a separate room to rest. She walked off then, without saying another word, knowing that Kojiro would follow her to whichever room they’d assigned him.
Kaoru had been sleeping from the moment Kojiro had entered. Kojiro had simply collapsed into the nearest chair and watched him, illuminated only by a small nightlight.
A handful of minutes ago the door had opened, shaking Kojiro out of whatever reverie he’d been stuck in, revealing the small, tired frame of a nurse about to wrap up her night shift. She passed through swiftly to check on Kaoru, waking him gently and asking him a handful of basic questions to make sure his concussion didn’t get worse. Kojiro didn’t even get the chance to look him in the eye -- he was back asleep before the nurse had closed the door behind her.
By now, the early morning sun started peeking through the thin indigo curtains and slipping through whatever slit they didn’t happen to cover, bathing the small room in a soft, golden glow.
Kojiro had never before had this much time to look at Kaoru. To really look at him.
He lay in a half-upright position, his back and neck supported by sturdy pillows. Bandages covered most of his head wounds, and his right arm was tucked securely into a sling. Traces of blood still lingered in his hair, splayed around him in tangled strands. His chest rose and fell peacefully underneath his hospital gown -- a movement Kojiro had tried to calm himself with over and over, but never quite managed.
Even in this state, Kaoru was heartbreakingly beautiful.
Kojiro had always known he was, and he’d always been aware of it. But there were particular moments, such as this one, where it slapped him in the face and left him reeling.
He didn’t think he had ever ached to touch him this much.
As quietly as he could, he scooted his chair closer to Kaoru’s bed. Then he reached out, slid his hand underneath Kaoru’s free one, and interlaced their fingers.
For a moment, he marveled at how well their hands seemed to fit together, like two matching puzzle pieces. How his hands, tan and covered in calluses and tiny little scars he’d collected in culinary school, contrasted with Kaoru’s fair ones, slender and smooth except for the spots on his fingers that carried his calligraphy brush. And how, above all else, he didn’t want to let go.
Then Kaoru’s fingers moved, solidifying their grip on Kojiro’s hand with a slight squeeze.
Kojiro’s head shot up, and saw that Kaoru’s eyes were open, trained on their intertwined fingers, the tiniest smile tugging up his lips.
“I knew you were sentimental,” he said lowly, “but this is a lot even for you.”
“Kaoru,” Kojiro breathed, and before he could stop himself, he started laughing. Soft, breathy, desperate chuckles dripping with relief; the kind that could transform into harsh, racking sobs if one wasn’t careful. Finally, finally, the vines that had strangled him for hours on end began to loosen their hold, and he leaned forward until his forehead touched their shared hands.
“Now, now,” he heard Kaoru say, his voice laced with amusement. “No need for your carefree spirit to be so worry-struck. Cheer up, little Kojiro.”
Kaoru’s hand pulled free from Kojiro’s grip and ran through Kojiro’s hair soothingly. “I can’t believe I have to comfort you when I’m the injured one here,” he added, mock-sullenly.
“Alright, alright,” Kojiro said, sitting up, “you can cut it out now.”
Kaoru hummed, lifting his hand to cover his smile with slender fingers, the way he often hid it behind his favorite fan.
Then, as if the events of the night before suddenly came back to him, his smile fell.
"Are you in pain?" Kojiro asked immediately.
Kaoru started shaking his head, then winced at the movement, squeezing his eyes shut. Vines started creeping up Kojiro's chest again. He feared they wouldn't be completely gone until Kaoru was back to how he'd been before. And that could take weeks. Months.
Kaoru opened his eyes, then stared at a spot on the wall. His free hand clutched the fabric of the covers.
"I can't believe how stupid I've been."
"Stupid?" Kojiro was dumbstruck. "Kaoru, nothing about this is your fault--"
"No, dimwit," Kaoru interrupted him. "I can't believe how stupid I've been to believe anything remained of Adam as we used to know him."
Oh.
"I wanted to see it for myself," Kaoru continued. "See how much he'd changed, if there was anything in him at all that I could recognize. Some part of me held out hope that I-- we could turn it all back somehow."
Kaoru cast his eyes down to where his hand strangled the sheets. His gaze-- no, his entire body, held the unmistakable weight of grief. "But I was wrong."
"Not just you," Kojiro said. He reached out and stroked the back of Kaoru's hand with his fingertips. "It's hard to watch, seeing the person he's become."
Kaoru nodded slowly. The movement made a few strands of hair fall into his face.
An idea sparked in Kojiro’s mind.
"Oh, wait, here--" Kojiro dug into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out the spare hair tie he always carried around "--let me tie up your hair for you."
Kaoru blinked at him, then hummed, acceding. Some of the tension in his shoulders dropped, suggesting to Kojiro that he wasn’t the only one glad to have an excuse to change the subject.
He carefully sat down on the edge of the bed and helped Kaoru sit upright a little. With his fingers he gently combed through Kaoru's hair, untangling any knots he came across, scraping his fingernails across Kaoru’s scalp for good measure. Kaoru's eyes fluttered closed as Kojiro worked -- the tiny noises of pleasure he made from the back of his throat were the only sign that he was still awake.
When his hair was all smoothed out, Kojiro gathered most of the strands together into a loose ponytail, one of Kaoru's signature looks, and wrapped the hair tie around it until he was sure no amount of twisting and turning would undo it.
"There," he said, tucking a stray strand behind Kaoru's ear. "That should do it."
"Thanks," Kaoru breathed curtly. His cheeks took on a rosy tone.
Kojiro couldn't help caressing Kaoru's cheek as he moved his hand away, his skin igniting at the touch. As he sat back down in the armchair, Kaoru exposed the palm of his hand -- an invitation. Kojiro accepted, taking Kaoru's hand in both of his.
"I'm tired," Kaoru sighed.
"Then rest." Kojiro traced circles on the back of Kaoru's hand with one of his thumb. "That's all you have to do for now."
Kaoru hummed. He turned his head so he could meet Kojiro's gaze.
"Will you stay?"
Kojiro's heart jumped, filling his chest with sparks of static electricity. Kaoru was usually too proud to admit he had any needs or wants -- and if he was forced to, he tended to go with arrogant humor rather than vulnerable sincerity. The fact that he chose the latter this time around suggested something was changing between them.
With the way his entire body tingled with warmth, Kojiro couldn’t say he wasn’t excited about the prospect.
He smiled, and lifted Kaoru’s hand to press a feather-light kiss on top of his knuckles.
Kojiro knelt down next to Kaoru, heart pounding on the inside of his ribcage, hands quivering. Kaoru kept his eyes on Adam, face contorted in pain behind his torn mask, as if his rage was the only thing keeping him grounded. There were so many words Kojiro wanted to fling at Adam's face, but none could reach passed the threshold of his lips. The shock and betrayal and fury turned his chest into a dizzying whirlpool.
There was so much blood. Oozing from cuts on Kaoru's cheek and forehead, trickling out of Kaoru's now-broken nose. Kojiro could usually stomach these things, but the sight before him made his veins turn to ice. He had to do something, anything, but he couldn’t think.
From a world far, far away, he registered Shadow's voice over the rumbling of a car engine, his mind latching onto the world 'hospital'. Slowly, his muscles thawed, and, feeling Adam's steel gaze burning a hole through his skin, he gently scooped Kaoru up into his arms.
Kojiro's stomach dropped to the center of the earth. He felt so terrifyingly fragile. Kaoru, who was surprisingly strong for someone with his lean build, who wasn't above kicking or punching Kojiro to tease or get his point across, was limp in Kojiro's hands, his head resting against Kojiro's collarbone like a deadweight.
Kojiro smoothly got to his feet as Shadow jumped out of the car to open the door for him. Against all odds and expectations, he heard Kaoru chuckle softly into his chest.
"Looks like those bulky muscles aren't just for show," he remarked.
Kojiro snorted at that, despite everything. "Save the compliments for when you're not about to pass out," he replied. "Makes it hard to believe you're being genuine."
"I'm always being genuine," Kaoru countered, sounding offended. "I suppose those muscles are just to compensate for your empty brain."
Kojiro laughed as he carefully scooted inside the car with Kaoru in his arms. Of course Kaoru would try to bicker with him when he was injured. Maybe it was his way to enforce normalcy, act like everything was fine, despite him obviously being shocked and in pain. Kojiro was sure neither of them expected Adam to go that far.
He laid out Kaoru's legs on the length of the backseat, allowing Kaoru's torso to lean against him, and wrapped the seatbelt around them the best he could. Blood from Kaoru's wounds started seeping into his jacket, and before he could ask, Shadow handed him a few measly tissues to staunch the bleeding with. A moment later, Kojiro's back pressed hard into his seat as Shadow drove like there was no tomorrow.
As gently as he could in the shaking car, Kojiro brushed Kaoru's light pink hair -- now stained with blotches of brownish red -- out of his pale face with his free hand, holding Kaoru steady with the other. Kaoru's eyes were fixed on his face as he dabbed at his cuts with the tissues, his expression unreadable.
"What is it?" Kojiro asked, pausing.
Kaoru shook his head the slightest bit, as if to say 'nothing', but his gaze never wavered.
Kojiro felt pressured to fill the silence. He balled up the tissues in his free hand and chucked the wad on the floor somewhere. These wouldn’t do much good now, anyway. "Don't worry, you'll get help soon," he said over the roar of the car's engine. "Just hold tight."
"I know," Kaoru replied softly, the words coming out like a sigh, with just an edge of deadpan. The corner of his lips turned up in an attempt at a smile. "I'm just.. tired."
His eyelids fluttered shut, and Kojiro felt like he received a bullet in his chest. Something about falling asleep with a concussion being a bad idea flashed through his mind. He patted Kaoru's cheek, and his eyes flew open again.
"Stay with me, Kaoru, please."
Kojiro rested his hand on Kaoru's cheek, and Kaoru leaned into the touch, his eyelids heavy. Kojiro's resolve crumbled, and for the first time since he watched Adam knock him down, he was afraid.
He drew in a deep breath, held Kaoru closer to his chest, but nothing seemed to fix the chasm forming in his stomach. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind Kaoru’s ear, his fingertips trailing down Kaoru’s jaw before cupping his cheek again. Then he leaned down slightly and pressed a kiss on the top of Kaoru’s head, light as a feather.
"Just a little longer, Kaoru,” he whispered. “Please stay with me."
rated mature | 16k words | shirabu kenjirou/yahaba shigeru
Kenjirou came for the gorgeous building the flower shop had made a home in, and stayed for the charming florist who read him like a book and somehow knew exactly what he needed.
